


The Wildling Boy and The Bastard Girl

by TheBoyThatWasKissedByFire



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bad boy vibes, F/M, Female Jon Snow, Good girl Lya, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Male Ygritte (ASoIaF), My First Fanfic, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:44:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBoyThatWasKissedByFire/pseuds/TheBoyThatWasKissedByFire
Summary: She was the typical good girl: studies hard, lives in the library, gets good grades, never drinks or smokes or ever breaks a curfew.He was the typical bad boy: brash and handsome in a devilish way, yet ill-mannered and slightly jerkish, cursed with vocabulary so filthy that would make a sailor swoon.





	The Wildling Boy and The Bastard Girl

Lyarra Snow was fifteen, an A-straight student and a proud bookworm who spent her free time in the library studying the ancient history and past of the elite military unit known as the night's watch. Ygrenn was eighteen, a self-proclaimed delinquent and vigilante and the guitarist of a rock-themed garage band styling themselves as ‘The Wildlings’.  


She had met him during a party (which her popular friend, Margaery Tyrell had dragged her to kicking and screaming.) Once their eyes met, Greyish-purple staring into an icy blue, there was no going back. She came to every gig he ever had, hopelessly gazing into those sapphire pools, mesmerized at how his head of wild, flaming red curls bounced as he played. She didn’t know what it was that drew her to him, not truly. He wasn’t especially handsome and his crude manners and foul language would be a definite turn off to lots of other women, but somehow, she found it endearing. So she continued to watch the youth on stage, his plaid shirt drenched with sweat as he sung and his converse high tops ripping at the soles as he stomped his feet to the beat. She found him beautiful regardless, she adored how his eyes would light up whenever she entered the room and when he called her family nickname 'Lya' that seemed a lot less embarrassing when he had uttered it.  
_  


They started dating just over a week after they had met. It was a secret relationship, of course. Gods know how Robb, or worse, father would react upon finding out their precious, dutiful little girl was going out with a hooligan three years her senior. But she didn’t care. She was fond of him. She never felt this way towards anyone before, not sweet and handsome Gendry Waters whom she had dated briefly in year eight, not Daemon sand who asked her for her hand in the school dance during year ten (she said yes) and not even one certain Theon Greyjoy, who constantly flirted with her since they day she grew breasts and womanly curves. He had a way of making her smile and laugh whenever she felt terrible and he was always there to comfort her whenever she experienced ‘family issues’, specifically with her stepmother Catelyn, who always treated her as if she was some blight on the Stark/Tully family name. As if she didn't belong. It got even worse when Sansa, who used to play with her dark brown curls and play tea parties with her, would ape her mother's behavior, shunning her all the sudden due to the fact that ''it was shameful to associate with a bastard". Luckily, Ygrenn was always there, ready to cheer up with some DVDs of old horror flicks from the eighties and seventies and a box of Ferrero Roches. That, along with his presence, always made her feel better.  


Lyarra gave herself, all of herself to him, three months after they first started going out. She was terrified, but he assured her that it would be alright, stroking her errant dark brown curls and pressing soothing kisses to her pale skin until she felt comfortable. After that night, they didn’t stop. They did it whenever, wherever they could. It was like an addiction, but the good kind. They tried to be as quiet and stealthy as they could until they were finally caught one fateful night by one Arya Stark, her greys which peeked through the door slit as large as saucers. Lya expected her to go run and tell their parents, to crying about how she had let a random boy spoil her virtue. That's what Sansa would've done. But fortunately, Arya, unlike Sansa, understood. She just smirked, promising not to tell anyone of their weekly liaisons and to 'keep it in their bloody pants' in the house next time. 

It all came crashing down a year and a half later. Whilst walking home from having spent an evening at a Cold-play concert and having a bit too much too drink, Ygrenn suggested they use a deserted alley as a shortcut to the Stark residence. In her drunken stupidity, Lya agreed. They were trudging through the narrowed space, dodging beggars and druggies and manged strays for a few minutes when a few men with gang tattoos inked onto their muscular arms appeared in front of them, pointing their guns in their faces and spewing violent threats and curse words in a language neither of them recognized. She was suddenly sober and deathly frightened, wondering what these bandits were willing to do to her and her boyfriend, but Ygrenn just smiled his cocksure smile and tried to use his smart mouth to get out of the situation. When that failed, he dumbly pulled out his own colt which was stuffed into his ripped denim jeans and pointed it at them. 

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot...

Before she could intervene or even utter a single word, a deafening sound entered the cool night air and a bullet whizzed passed, flying through the atmosphere before penetrating Ygrenn's chest. Blood began to ooze from the hole and between the boy's fingers as he frantically grasped at his rapidly staining shirt wheezing in disbelief, eyes bright and wet with fear as a silent scream erupted from his dry lips. Then everything was a blur. A woman screamed and a siren could be heard in the distance, but all she felt was mind shattering terror as she ran towards her love, her life. She held him in her arms, whispering assurances and stroking her porcelain fingers through his copper hair.

"You're not going to die, Ygrenn." She said hoarsely, desperately. "You're kissed by fire. An ambulance is coming. I can hear it. You're not going to die." He grinned one last time and those beautiful sapphire orbs that contained the summer sea twinkled like tiny stars. His bloodied hand reached up to stroke her tear-stained cheek. 

"Oh...You know nothing, Lyarra Snow." He groaned dying.

He had bled out and his ruggedly handsome visage, once full of life and youthful vigor, now stared up at the starry indigo sky with a disturbing vacancy. She stayed like that, holding his corpse for what felt like hours, even when the sound of a siren was blaring through her ears. She felt nothing, just the hot burn of her tears running down her ice-cold cheeks.

_  
She was a ghost, a shell of her former self. Her family, especially Robb and Arya, restlessly asked her what was wrong and why she was so different. They wondered if some random boy had cruelly dumped her, or worse, cheated on her, how they had vowed they would find whoever it was and punish them for it. Oh, if only they knew. If only they knew. She couldn’t tell them of course, which just made it all the more painful. And for the next few weeks after his death, she felt a jolt of pain shoot into her chest every time she was reminded of those bouncing copper curls and eyes chipped from blue ice.

**Author's Note:**

> PLS Comment, it really means a lot! PLus, i'm thinking of making a series of fem!jon snow snipppets. So please leave your opinion.


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